The Songs of a Dysfunctional Family
by littlecleocat
Summary: This is a series of four chapter, one song per ch, that together are one big story. warnings: suicide, self harm, implied rape and a confusing summary! read a bit, and you'll get the set up
1. America's NUMB

England and france are married and adopted America and england, that's the set up, but here only two are mentioned... enjoy! (and review)

America's pov:

(NUMB by LINCOLN PARK)

* * *

"I'm tired of being what you want me to be!" I shout and slam the door in Englands's face.

"I'm feeling so faithless. I'm-I'm just lost under the surface." I say in a hoarse whisper and sinking to the ground beside the door.

"Go on, say what you need to say." I hear England say in defeat from behind my bedroom door.

"I don't know what you're expecting of me." I say, waiting for his response but getting none.

"Don't put me under the pressure of walking in your shoes." I add to fill the silence before I realize he's going to let me talk for once in his life.

"I feel that I'm caught in the undertow… That every step that I take is only another mistake to you."

_"_I've become so numb, dad, I can't feel you there anymore.

I've become so tired, and-and so much more aware

I'm becoming this, but really, all I want to do,

Is be more like me… and be less like you." I say, and the silence is still his reply, so I keep charging on.

"Can't you see that you're smothering me?

Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control?

Beause everything that you thought I would be,

Has fallen apart right in front of you!

And every second that I waste is just way more than I can take."

"And I know." I finally whisper.

"That I may end up failing too."

"But I know," I say with a bit more energy, "You were just like me with someone disappointed in you."


	2. France Need to to be Brung Back to Life

This is written a bit differently than the others, but I hope it communicates his view point in this story a little bit at least :)

* * *

France's pov:

(BRING ME BACK TO LIFE by EVANESCENCE)

* * *

"How can you see into my eyes like open doors?" I think as England's emerald eyes stare me down before walking out of our bedroom.

"Those doors leading you down into my core where I've become so numb?" I mentally mention to myself.

"Without a soul my spirit must be sleeping somewhere cold." I think, "Until you find it there and lead it back home."

"Wake me up inside! Save me!" my soul demands of him.

"Call my name and save me from the dark." My body begs.

"Bid my blood to run at least!?" my heart suggests in earnest.

It's al because I can't wake up before I come undone…

"Can you save me from the nothing I've become?" my brain wonders.

"Now that I know what I'm without you, you can't just leave me!" I yell after my husband as he walks away from me, and down the stairs..

"Breathe into me and make me real. Bring me to life." My lips ask.

"I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside.

I'm frozen inside without your touch, without your love, darling." I say, wrapping my arms around him, when I catch up to him.

"All this time I can't believe I couldn't see." I whisper in his ear

"I was kept in the dark but you were there in front of me!" I say, but he pushes me away.

"I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems." My eyes state.

"I know I've got to open my eyes to everything now." I plead following him through the living room.

"Without a thought," my brain thinks, "without a voice," my lips say, "without a soul." I believe- That I might die.

"Don't let me die here!" I call as he gets in the car.

"There must be something more for you." He says.

"Bring me to life." All of me shrieks as he drives away, leaving me divorced and in the dust.


	3. England Needs a BULLET

This is the song I originally started out with, then it lead to the others, so that's why it's the longest most detailed one.

* * *

England's pov"

(BULLET by HOLLYWOOD UNDEAD)

* * *

"My legs are dangling off the edge." I say to unicorn beside me with a sigh.

"The bottom of the bottle is my only friend, really." I say, glaring at the colored glass holding the alcoholic beverage. These magical creatures around me always leave me in the end.

I think to myself, "I'll slit my wrists again."

Then, with my knife, I carve "I'm gone" into the flesh on my arm, trying not to wince.

"My legs are dangling off the edge and a stomach full of pills didn't work again." I explain to this flying mint colored bunny next to me, "So I'll put a bullet in my head and I'll be gone." gone, gone, gone like these words in the wind.

"I'm gone too far." I mumble, "Yeah I'm gone again."

"It's gone on too long," I sigh, looking up at the twinkling light of the stars above, "I'll tell you how it ends," I cleared my throat to better my dramatic tale to the mystical(yet quite REAL) creatures that surround me.

"I'm sitting on the edge with my 2 best friends," I hold out my hand to indicate to the stars how many 2 is before continuing.

"Ones a bottle of pills, ones a bottle of gin," I gesture to my pills beside me, and the gin in my hand, these are the only ones who will really miss me I think hugging my bottle closer to me and letting go when I hiccup.

"I'm 20 stories up," I know, I counted, "yeah I'm up at the top. I'll polish off this bottle, now it's pushing me off." I say, pretending to jump for a fleating second to see if anyone flinched, no one in my company did however.

I notice that the asphalt has never looked so soft to me before.

Then I pause and think, "I bet my son's found my letter, now they're calling the cops."

"I gotta take this opportunity before I miss it." I think because now I hear the sirens off in the distance.

"Believe me." I whisper to a friendly ghost, "when I tell you that I've been persistent."

"Because I'm more scarred, more scarred than my wrist is." I say, looking at what was once a snow-white wrist that has now transformed into a bloody hashing of scars, each one representing a time when I was mentally scarred.

"I've been trying too long, you see," I continue to inform uncaring beings and the open night sky, "But with too dull of a knife!"

"But tonight I made sure that I sharpened it twice," yet again I hold up to fingers.

"I never bought a suit before in my life," I say, tugging at constraining collar.

"But when you go to meet God, you know you want to look nice." I say, this time looking to the side, and the fairly there nods and smiles as if she doesn't really care if I live or die.

"So if I survive, then I'll see you tomorrow, yeah I'll see you tomorrow." I say, tipping my hat to them, and standing up on the ledge.

"A stomach full of pills didn't work again." I mumble when I realize I'm still not dead yet.

"I think I'll put a bullet in my head I'll be gone." I pull the trigger, but nothing happens, I try again," gone, gone, gone." I say each word with a pull of the trigger, but nothing seems to happen, so I let my mind wander.

(MIND WANDERING THROUGH MEMORIES)

"We hit the sky!" the little America cheers.

"Well there goes the light." France sighs from the couch.

"No more sun," the little Canada says in awe at the broken ceiling light, "why's it always night?" he asked me, well I didn't know the answer to that, but I tried to explain(of core in a way that neither of us understood).

"When you can't sleep, well, you can't dream," I started out

"When you can't dream, well, what's life mean?" I asked, and the child Canada shrugged.

(NEXT MEMORY)

"We feel a little pity, but don't empathize when the old are getting older and we watch the young men die." I write in my journal after going to a funeral for my nephew.

(NEXT MEMORY)

A Father and a son and someone you know, smile at each other in a picture frame on your desk and realize you don't,

You don't know what happened to those kids you raised.

"What happened to the Father, who swore he'd stay?" you ask your self.

"I didn't know because you didn't say," you tell him in you're head, remembering the time he left you.

"Now I'm gonna feel guilty, yeah I'm gonna feels pain." I think, remembering when he came back, how I was the one who left.

(NEXT MEMORY)

"When I was young, I never thought I'd die," I thought, "Then I found that I could but I was too scared to try,

I looked in the mirror and I said goodbye. Then I climbed to the roof to see if I could fly."

(End of MEMORIES)

"I wish that I could fly, way up in the sky." I comment looking over to all the flying creatures behind me with envy.

"I'd be like a bird so high-" I whisper gazing up at the sky, then I saw from the corner of my eye, my two sons and my (ex)husband burst around the corner.

"Oh, well, I might just try-" I said, and I saw their eyes wide in shock starring up at me in horror. I smiled a sad smile in their direction, then took a leap to see if I could fly.


	4. Chapter 4

This is the last one, I hoped you liked it :)

* * *

Canada's pov:

(PAIN by THREE DAYS GRACE)

* * *

"Pain without love?" I ask my favorite pair of scissors I hide under my mattress.

"Pain. I can't get enough." I mutter and begin to slice a long ribbon on red down my forearm.

"Pain, I like it rough." I admit, wincing slightly as the blade digs deeper in my arm.

"Because…" because what? I ask myself. "Because I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all." I answer and run the blade down my arm with as much force as I can before I can muster, letting my cries escape and echo around the basement.

(FLASHBACK TO BEFORE THE CUTTING)

"You're sick of feeling numb." France says to me after listening me talk about dad's death.

"You're not the only one." He says to me.

Taking me by the hand, he says, "I'll show you a world that you can understand." And with a flourish only a Frenchman can pull off, he opens the door to the basement.

"This life is filled with hurt," he states when he see's my questioning glance asking why we're going to the basement, "when happiness doesn't work."

"Trust me," he says and takes my hand, "When the lights go out you will understand." He winks his usual wink and flicks off the light.

"Pain, that's all I feel, and without love it's all right" France says, pushing me down on a bed.

"Pain," he breaths in my ear, "I can't get enough." And he bites down on my ear making me gasp.

"Pain, I like it rough." He chuckles.

"Because I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all." He says, his voice echoing in the strange room, and his face contorting into a blank stare.

"Anger and agony" France says as I try to resist, "Are better than misery."

"Trust me," he pants when he has me held down, "I've got a plan." Then I hear the click of handcuffs on the metal frame of the bed.

"Now that the lights are off you'll understand."

(TIME SKIP TO AFTER THE CUTTING)

"I know." America starts to whisper, "I know that you're wounded." and then I hear the familiar clinking of the key and the handcuffs, but this time coming off instead of going on but the sound still makes me flinch.

"You know that I'm here to save you?" he asks, and I nod.

"You know, I was always here for you." He says as he pulls me into a hug but I still don't say a word.

"I know that you'll thank me later." He says to himself in hopes that I will start talking to him again after what he did; leaving me to France.


End file.
